


Every New Beginning (Comes From Some Other Beginning's End)

by VeriLee



Category: Logan Lucky (2017), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, And Fluff too, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, If you've watched the movie or trailer you'll understand, Life As We Know It AU, Mellie is the sister she never had, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pregnancy, Rey and Mellie BFFs, Rey has commitment issues, Reylogan, Slow Burn, Soft Clyde Logan, There will be some character death, again not rey or clyde though, eventually, mention of abandonment issues, parenting, there will be angst, these two take awhile to find their footing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-09-24 09:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20356270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeriLee/pseuds/VeriLee
Summary: Rey wasn't looking for love when she hopped in her truck and drove until she ended up in Boone County, WV. She was just looking to get away.But she just might end up finding the home and family she never thought would be her own.A Reylogan meets "Life As We Know It" AU for Lorel





	1. Every New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lorel_ren (lorel_steele)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorel_steele/gifts).
**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Reylogan meets "Life As We Know It" for Lorel! This will be a little different from the movie, but I hope you enjoy reading this as much I enjoy writing it for you!

Rey Jackson didn’t so much _move _to Boone County, West Virginia as end up there after a long and meandering drive, the only destination in her mind being anywhere far from where she began.

She’d fought with her boyfriend; each heated word and accusation leading to another - until finally those three little words bubbled out: _“This isn’t working.”_ It didn’t matter what started it - she’d known since the first time they’d kissed it wasn’t going to last.

Nothing ever did.

And so she’d loaded up her faithful - if somewhat beat up - old Chevy Silverado with everything she really cared about (not much) and drove for thirteen hours straight, before checking into a little motel and promptly sleeping for another fifteen.

When she woke up around midday, clothes plastered to her body in the muggy room, the air conditioner having shut off at some time during her slumber, Rey made her way to the window and took in her surroundings, never realizing she’d just taken the first, unassuming, step in a new direction in her life.

Rey hadn’t been up for the chaos and throng of a big city, easy as it might be to get lost in the crowd. So she’d driven right through Charleston, south along the dark highway for another hour, even as her eyes fought to stay open, until she landed here. Danville seemed like any other small town that Rey had passed through over the years. A blip on the map, a fading main street and a place to stop for gas before moving on, but still home in the eyes of the handful of locals who had stayed put even as the rest of the world passed them by.

Rey didn’t plan on being anything other than yet another passer-through. She didn’t ever stay in one place too long, always leaving before she could be the one left behind. The tearful and angry goodbye she’d just lived through yesterday (or was it the day before? the hours all muddled together) served as a good lesson in what happened when she dared to stray from her norm, dared to _hope_ for more.

But what Rey didn’t know, _couldn’t know,_ was that it wouldn’t be a new love, or at least not a new _lover_, that would steal her heart this time, tempting her to plant her feet firmly in the rich, West Virginia soil and stay put for once.

Waking up too late for continental breakfast - which Rey assumed would be store bought muffins and mini cereal boxes at a place like this - she pieced together a meal of beef jerky and crisps from the vending machine to fill her stomach up a little and pass the time until it was socially acceptable(ish) to head towards the bar she’d seen as she drove into town, her eyes catching the flickering neon glow of the sign that read “Duck Tape” as she had skimmed the horizon, looking for a place to crash for the night. Now that she’d put a decent number of miles between herself and her ex, Rey was ready to drown her sorrows the tried and true way.

* * *

Rey blinked against the sudden dark as she made her way from the bright, afternoon sunlight into the cool, dim interior of the bar. It wasn’t anything fancy, no kitschy decor or rock and roll memorabilia - just well trodden wooden floors, several pool tables, and a couple of televisions, with a smattering of neon signs on the walls bearing the logos of various liquors and beers. It was exactly what she needed, Rey thought, making her way through the nearly empty room towards the long bartop and the silhouette of the bartender behind the counter.

“Welcome.” The low, rumbly voice came from the tall, broad shape that Rey’s eyes - still adjusting to the lowlight - couldn’t quite make out in full detail.

“Whiskey sour, please?” Rey said, hopping up onto a worn barstool. “On the rocks?”

“Comin’ right up, ma’am.” The silhouette, slowly becoming recognizable as a broad shouldered man with shaggy, dark hair, reached for a bottle of Jim Beam, and Rey eyed the bottle hungrily.

“And a shot too,” she added. “To start with.”

The bartender hummed shortly in response and fetched a shot glass, tilted a measure of the appealing amber liquid into it, and slid it across the counter to Rey in a quick and practiced motion before turning back to the task of making her cocktail. 

Rey downed the shot in one quick gulp, letting out a sigh of relief as the alcohol burned her throat and began to warm her veins. She watched in silence as the bartender mixed her drink; he was indeed every bit as broad as his outline suggested when she walked in, but he moved with a surprising sort of grace for someone of his stature as he mixed the lemon juice and liquor into the shaker, scooping in just a spoonful of sugar using only his right hand. Her eyes darted to the prosthetic she hadn’t noticed before on his left arm, and then back to the drink he was now pouring into a chilled glass.

“Here ya are, then,” he said, dropping two cherries into the glass and pushing it across to her.

“Thanks.” Rey looked up as she took the glass, meeting the man’s eyes for the first time. His expression - his _face_ \- was altogether gentler than she would have expected, given his stature: soft eyes, the same warm amber color of the whiskey now coursing through her, and full lips and neatly trimmed facial hair set against pale, mole-speckled skin, all framed by dark and wavy locks, nearly as long as her own. It was incongruous with what she expected in a rural, roadside bartender, and it startled her. 

“Don’t recall seein’ ya around here before,” he said. “Reckon I’d remember a face like yours.”

Rey merely shrugged as she took a deep gulp of her drink. She supposed that when heavy drinkers poured their hearts out over their beer, in search of a sort of self-made therapy - as television liked to imply they did, these were the bartenders that filled that role - steady, quiet types that looked as though they could listen without judging.

But Rey wasn’t looking for that sort of honesty and self introspection. She just wanted to drink and pretend the last eight months of a failed relationship had never happened.

“New to these parts?” he asked, when Rey failed to offer anything more.

“Uh huh.” Rey spoke more to her drink than to the man and he took the hint, dropping any further attempts at conversation, though as she finished her drink, barely popping the final, garish red maraschino into her mouth, a second glass was placed in front of her without a word.

“Thanks,” Rey murmured, and the attentive bartender nodded, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth before he turned away to serve other patrons that had begun to fill the bar.

From her silent perch, Rey watched with a sort of envy as he served many of the customers trickling in before they had even spoken to him; some were chatty, others nearly silent, but it was clear that most were regulars with their own “usuals.” Rey tried to tamp down the flare of jealousy she felt at the nameless cluster of people around her who were guilty of nothing more than having a home and a place where they were known, where they belonged.

“Clyde!” A clear, sweet voice suddenly rang through the air, so cheerily that Rey couldn’t help but look up from where she’d been pouting into her drink. A young woman - petite, curvy, with soft, light brown waves split into low ponytails on either side of her smiling face, was making her way through the bar, her greeting directed to the man behind the counter.

“Make it strong,” she said, bouncing up into a stool next to Rey. The bartender - Clyde, apparently - was already making her a peachtini. “It’s been one of those days.”

The woman held up her hands, nails long and intricately decorated, to display the indigo hue staining the pads of several fingertips. “Gwen ordered cheap gloves for the salon - they tear like ya wouldn’t believe, and y’all can just guess whose hair I needed to color today.”

“Still,” the bartender called Clyde said, passing a drink to the woman with a soft smile, “ya take it easy, Mel. Ain’t no use gettin’ yourself worked up all over again.”

The girl rolled her eyes and turned to Rey with a conspiratorial grin. “Big brothers never get past that whole _‘protective’ _thing, do they?”

_I wouldn’t know,_ Rey thought bitterly, but bit her tongue to keep from saying so. Instead, she just hummed and sipped her drink.

“Hey,” the woman said, as if realizing for the first time she was talking to a stranger, “ya ain’t from around these parts, are ya?”

Rey replied with a brief shake of her head - but the woman wasn’t as easily deterred as her brother.

“Didn’t think so. I’ve seen the same faces every day of my life; I know I ain’t seen yours.” The woman took a sip of her drink before pressing on. “New to town, or just passing through?”

“I…” Rey intended to say she was passing through, but in truth, she didn’t know how soon. She hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. “I guess I don’t know,” she finished honestly.

“Suppose I can’t blame ya if you keep movin’ on. Lotta people do. But we could do with some new blood ‘round here.” The woman polished off her drink and held her hand out. “I’m Mellie, by the way.”

Rey gave her own name and shook Mellie’s hand. 

“What brought ya to Boone County, anyway?” Mellie nudged her empty glass towards her brother.

“I needed a change,” Rey answered with a shrug, vague, but honest again. Something in Mellie’s demeanor made Rey ready to talk - just a little - where she had clammed up before. That, or the two-plus drinks now solidly coursing through her bloodstream; maybe a bit of both. “I just broke up with my boyfriend, and my job wasn’t anything worth sticking around for - so I didn’t.” Rey shrugged, trying to keep her tone lighter than she felt as she relayed the basics of her story.

Mellie nodded sympathetically, and then gasped as her eyes widened. “Ya know what you need?” she said, grasping both of Rey’s hands in her own. “A makeover!” Mellie was bouncing on the barstool now, her eyes alight as she clapped her hands together excitedly.

A part of Rey wanted to scoff at the cliche notion - what were they? Fourteen years old? But an even bigger part of her - the part that had struggled to make friends as she bounced from foster home to foster home and school to school and had never taken part in those teenage rites of passage - perked up.

“I don’t know,” Rey hedged, shyly glancing away from Mellie’s friendly, imploring face.

“Oh come on! I see the same clients every day; I need something new, too. It’ll be fun. Besides, I am a great hairdresser, if I do say so myself.” Mellie looked down at Rey’s chipped nails, stark against her own colorful ones. “Billie is in tomorrow, too. She does the _best_ acrylics.”

Embarrassed, Rey pulled her hands free. She had never had her nails done. Couldn’t afford it in high school, and as an adult… well it wasn’t terribly practical for a mechanic. But suddenly she wanted it. She wanted that pretty, if pointless, little indulgence. Wanted to forget by having fun, not just drinking her memories away.

“Okay,” she finally said softly.

“Great!” Mellie flagged down Clyde and asked him for a pen, scribbling “Hair We R” and an address and phone number on a cocktail napkin. “I’ll be in at ten, but I ain’t got no one officially scheduled ‘til noon, so come in the morning. My cell is on there if you have any trouble finding the salon.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Rey caught a glimpse of the bartender smiling just ever so slightly as he filled a glass with beer for another patron, likely amused by his sister’s enthusiasm.

Rey nodded as she tucked the napkin into her wallet for safekeeping and pulled out some cash to pay for her drinks. “I should probably call it a night for now,” she said.

“Aw, but it’s early,” Mellie responded with a fake pout.

It was, but Rey had started drinking even earlier and didn’t want to be hungover tomorrow. “It’s been a day,” she said, in lieu of pointing out how early she’d shown up at the bar.

She caught Clyde's attention but he held up his hand in protest when she tried to pay her tab.

“On the house,” he mumbled.

“But…”

“Ya put a smile on my lil’ sister's face, and Mellie’s a good judge of character,” he said in that low, southern drawl. “It’s on the house tonight.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.” Rey found herself flustered by the kindness shown to her by these two strangers.

She bid goodbye to Mellie and began to walk back to the motel, the little napkin nearly burning a hole in her pocket. Maybe it shouldn’t seem like a big deal, maybe to anyone else who hadn’t been starved for friendship it wouldn't be. But the little token, and the prospect of friendship had Rey feeling a spark of optimism she hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe West Virginia was exactly where she needed to be.

  



	2. Chapter Two

Instead of leaving town right away, Rey found herself paying for another night at the motel, and then another and another and _ another _. Finally, the third time that Maz, the little old woman that managed the Sleep Inn, suggested she take her up on the weekly rate, Rey gave in.

It still wasn’t forever, it wasn’t like it was a _ lease _ , Rey told herself. She could pick up and leave anytime she wanted to. There was nothing tying her to Boone County.

Deep down, something inside of Rey knew it was a lie. True, she hadn’t struck up any sort of romantic entanglements, nor even indulged in any casual flings, although a couple patrons at the Duck Tape had made their interest known.

No. Rey was swearing off dating and romance and sex - and the whole lot. She wasn’t sure anymore that she had even _ been _ in love with her ex, which almost made the heartbreak worse. It was just a reminder that she was unloved and unlovable. Better to not let anyone get too close to her heart again.

On the other hand, there was Mellie. Rey had never had a sister, nor even stuck around in one place long enough to have a best friend. But she had spent her childhood imagining what it would be like to have a sister - someone to talk to for hours about nothing or everything, to hang out with, to shop with, and yes, even someone to do makeovers with.

And Mellie, to her credit, really did know what she was doing. Rey had been a little nervous when Mellie had dragged her through the door of the salon that first morning with a cheek-splitting grin on her face. The young woman had a style all her own, and while that perfectly suited her exuberant demeanor, it wasn’t exactly what Rey pictured for herself.

But any apprehension Rey might have had was swiftly swept away, because Mellie’s face had taken on a thoughtful gaze as she mulled over what to do, and Rey was stunned by how much she loved the short, feminine bob that she settled on. It was still Rey - but a _ new _ Rey - and there had been something cathartic in feeling the heavy chunks of chestnut hair drop away.

And that had been far from Rey’s last interaction with Mellie. She’d encouraged Rey to meet her again for drinks after she got off work, and from there they’d made plans to go shopping; Rey hadn’t brought along many clothes, and what she had were more suited for the northern chill she’d left behind than the humid air of West Virginia. And then it was drinks again, and then to catch the new Noel Bandersnatch movie at the mall down in Madison - and so on and so forth. They were about the same age, but somehow Mellie had become the big sister Rey had once dreamed of.

When a nagging voice inside reminded her that a friend could hurt you just as much as a lover when it came time for goodbye, Rey shushed and stifled it with all her willpower.

Unfortunately, however, all the _ fun _Rey had been having came at a cost. Literally. And though Mellie’s brother, Clyde, frequently gave them free drinks, and Mellie was always insisting Rey let her treat when they went out to places other than the Duck Tape, Rey’s already meager savings had dwindled pretty low.

Which is what led her to Earl’s Garage. It was a shame that the pretty nails Mellie had helped her pick out - a french manicure with little crystals on her ring fingers - would have to be forsaken. _ If _she even got the job that was.

“Excuse me?”

No one was in the small waiting room intended for customers, and despite the jingle of the bells hanging from the door handle nobody materialized, so Rey shuffled over to the entryway into the garage and peeked around the corner.

“Be there in a minute,” a low voice called out from behind the popped hood of a green Pontiac Grand Prix. After a few moments, the source of the voice - an older man, with long brown hair and sun-leathered skin, emerged from behind the car, wiping his hands on a greasy rag. “What can I do ya for? Car trouble?”

“No. I usually fix my own car. That’s kind of why I’m here. I’m good with cars. I mean…” Rey realized she was rambling as the man - the _ Earl _ of _ Earl’s Garage, _ she guessed - fixed her with a quizzical gaze. She took a breath and started over. “I’m looking for work, and was told you might have a position open? Mellie sent me,” she tacked on.

“Mellie Logan?” he clarified. “Reckon I do trust her opinion. She wouldn’t send anyone my way that she wouldn’t let touch her own Nova. But I don’t suppose I’ve seen ya ‘round before. Thought I knew everyone who ran around with the Logans.”

“I’m new in town,” Rey explained. “I’ve only been here for a couple of weeks. I’m Rey, by the way.”

“Earl,” the man replied, confirming her assumptions. “I’d shake your hand but…” he trailed off with a lazy grin, displaying outstretched palms stained with oil.

He resumed poking around under the hood of the car as he pressed Rey about her experience - what types of cars she had worked on, and for how many years - until he finally nodded, satisfied.

He explained that he _ did _ already have two regular mechanics working for him, but Mellie’s brother - not the bartender but another one she hadn’t met yet, a Jimmy Logan - used to help him out sometimes, too. Earl hadn’t bothered to replace him when he moved out of state a year before, since it hadn’t been a full time position.

“I can offer you some hours. Can always count on cars breakin’ down,” Earl said with a rueful grin. “But I’ll be up front with ya. Some weeks are leaner than others; just depends on how busy we are. Can’t promise full time.”

“Of course,” Rey said, nodding so fast she was sure she must look like a bobblehead figure. “I’m just grateful for the opportunity.”

And she was. She wasn’t above waiting tables or working retail or anything, either. But Danville was a small town, and it hadn’t taken long to see that jobs were scarce; she didn’t have many options unless she wanted to drive down to Madison - or even further - every day.

“I’ll need to see your work in action, too,” Earl added. “I might trust Mellie, but it’s still my name on that door and my reputation on the line.”

Rey nodded again, but before she spoke, Earl waved for her to come closer. “In fact, why don’t you help me out over here? Let me see what ya got?”

Looking down at the jeans and simple button up she was wearing, Rey shrugged and joined him. Securing a job was worth more than the shirt any day. She recognized the damaged radiator hose immediately and before long she was losing herself in the work as Earl moved on to work on another car.

Fixing cars had come naturally to Rey. It was an interest that had been seeded at one of the many foster homes she’d lived in as a child, when an older child in the house let her tag along to the garage he worked at, rather than leave her at the house with the drunk man fostering them. It had blossomed when she landed in a high school that still had an auto shop class, and had become something of a necessity once she lived on her own and funds were tight.

But she loved it, too. She liked how every part under the hood of a car had a place and a purpose, and liked finding the best solution to a problem and making everything function together.

Focused on the task at hand, time slipped away as Rey worked, and she didn’t notice the owner of the car entering the garage and talking to Earl until he turned to speak to her.

“Didn’t expect to see ya here.”

The deep and, by now familiar, timbre finally cut through Rey’s concentration, and she straightened up and turned around, surprised to see Clyde Logan addressing her, though as soon as she met his eyes, he glanced away nervously.

“This is your car, then?” she asked, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. When he nodded silently, she continued. “You don’t take very good care of it, you know.”

Clyde blinked, taken aback. “Earl said it was the radiator hose. That’s just regular ol’ wear and tear,” he defended as he gestured to the other man.

“If it _ were _ just the hose, yeah,” Rey said. “I know that leak is what you came in for. But the oil was way too low and way too dark, too. When was the last time you changed it?” She put her hands on her hips.

Sheepishly, Clyde hummed and raised his right hand to tousle his hair, something he did often when he was nervous or put on the spot, Rey had noticed in their handful of interactions.

“You don’t remember, do you?” she asked, in a chiding tone. “I’m surprised Mel lets you get away with that.” In their conversations, Rey had discovered that despite what someone might guess by glancing at her clothes and make-up, Mellie definitely knew cars, too.

“She mighta bugged me ‘bout it,” he mumbled, chastised.

“Well, we dealt with that, too,” Rey said, turning around to close the hood. She had been just about done when he’d walked up, just doing final checks on the connections of the hose she had installed.

“You workin’ for Earl, then?” Clyde asked. When Rey nodded, he continued: “I suppose that means you’re gonna stick around a while?”

Still facing the Grand Prix, Rey tensed, then told herself she was only imagining the hopeful lilt in his questioning. “This is a beautiful car,” she said, rather than answering. “You should take better care of it.”

Clyde shuffled forward a few steps, looking over Rey’s shoulder as he spoke. “I used to keep up on it better. Did a lot of this stuff myself; my folks taught us when were little,” he explained. Rey could see him shrug out of the corner of her eye. “Got harder when… Well, I do mean to bring ‘er in more often, but I forget.”

_ His arm. _Rey was suddenly very glad to be facing away as a guilty flush crept across her face. She’d watched Clyde at the bar - the fluidity with which he made drinks was almost hypnotic - but even as high tech as his prosthetic was, it had its limits. She only meant that he should take the car to be serviced more regularly, but she suddenly felt like shit for speaking so carelessly.

“I’ll grab your keys,” Rey said, grateful for the excuse to walk away for a moment. “You’ll have to talk to Earl for billing. I’m not set up on that yet.”

When he finally drove away, Rey sighed softly to herself. More than once, she’d caught Clyde casting little glances in her direction when she was drinking with Mellie, and more than once, as much as she’d like to deny it, she’d felt a little bloom of warmth in her chest when he smiled at her as he refilled her glass.

But that was a very dangerous road, and Rey needed to stop herself before she got started. She hadn’t _ planned _ on being openly rude to Clyde today, but maybe it was for the best. She couldn’t be at risk for falling if she kept far, _ far _ clear of the edge. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this Reylogan isn't _super_ Reylogan-y yet but more Clyde and Rey interactions are on the way! Needed to establish Rey sticking around longer! Sorry for the delay - hope it won't be as long next time!


End file.
